Stare At Empty Sky

Stare At Empty Sky
© Surazeus
2019 02 04

Leaves of time scatter from the trees of hope
to shroud the golden path of destiny
we follow through the maze of blind desire
to find the garden of safety, but I
hesitate in grove of silent concern
to sit nowhere and stare at empty sky.

Why should I continue on path of fate,
I wonder as I stare at glowing clouds
where my ancestors once thought God resides,
and laugh because each decision I make
becomes the true destiny I design,
charting my progress toward my own mute grave.

I could sit here under the tree of fruit
and die on this spot so dust of my flesh
feeds roots of this tree consuming my soul
so I become this tree stretching its limbs
to whisper sorrowful joy of my heart,
or I could go find my grave somewhere else.

Whether I stay here for rest of my life
or I wander far along winding rivers
means nothing to anyone else but me,
for someday, somewhere far down my long road,
I will fall over and sink in dark gloom,
and never again wake from dreamless sleep.

Does some supernatural consciousness glow
inside every pulsing atom of me
to motivate my progress through this world,
or is this consciousness I name myself
my own volition asserting free will
to ambulate my own way through this world?

Before my father fell over and died
on the river shore many moons ago
he told me how each creature that exists
is the hunter or the hunted in game
of life and death as we fight to survive,
trying to stay alive as long as we can.

I want to be neither, hunter or hunted,
so I navigate with careful attention
complex geography of hills and lakes
to maintain safety of body and mind,
thus I keep moving through maze of mute trees
to hide from predators hunting for food.

I long to stop on some deserted spot
and arrange stones in circle to protect
this fragile body that sustains my mind
so I can rest from my perpetual flight
within haven walls I build with my hands
to guard lush garden of my peaceful hope.

Once I enclose myself in garden walls,
tending fruit trees that sustain spirit life
in constant ritual of active attention,
I feel tension wind tight urge of my heart
to break free and explore the wilderness
where I dream the indifferent universe.

Preserving small garden in ring of stones,
I venture outside walls to explore hills,
hunting for anything I can take back
and keep hidden in my safe paradise
where I relax in hut on heap of stones
to keep watch in the long hot afternoon.

What is my purpose for hiding in garden
of secret walls that protect me from harm
except to avoid attention of hunters
while I plan through wit of analysis
method to eliminate evil monsters
till I can dominate vast wilderness.

Fruits of desire sprout from the trees of hope
to reveal the golden path of my will
that I chart through grim waste land of despair
till I establish through bold precedent
my divine right to rule over this land,
sitting nowhere to stare at empty sky.